Author's Notes: This is just a fun little piece that I wrote when I was bored. It is meant to be little bit funny and a tiny bit creepy, but not really scary, sorry to those of you who wanted a good fright.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
How the Shrieking Shack Got its Name
Rosmerta was a young witch who worked in a pub called The Three Broomsticks, in a town called Hogsmeade, near a school called Hogwarts. On the edge of town, there was a hill. That summer, there had been a small wooden shack built on the hill. No one had seen the actual construction of the shack, but it had quickly been erected and just as quickly forgotten by the owner and deserted.
Then one night, the night of the September full moon, Rosmerta was awoken from her sleep by howling and screaming. Confused and alarmed, she raced to the window and stuck her head out. The sound was intensified but she couldn't tell where it was coming from. She dressed hurriedly and walked outside. She still couldn't tell where the sound was coming from, but knew it was to her right. She turned and crept shyly up the road; the little shack on the hill came into view. There were no lights on in the house but she saw movement in the window. The howling and screaming ran out, coming from inside the house.
The ground was covered in deep mud on the hill from the rain that had been falling that day. As she reached the shack at the top of the hill she heard the loudest howl of all and something inside crashed. Rosmerta was startled. She jumped in the air. As she came down to Earth she lost her footing and tripped, landing face down in the mud. She pushed herself up and looked around. Something was not right. The rain had stopped before nightfall, and at that point no one had been seen near the shack. If someone was in the house, he or she would have left footprints in the mud. But the only tracks were hers.
Rosmerta's eyes widened in fear and realization. Whatever was in that shack was not human, and not animal. She scurried up and stared at the shack, scared speechless. The howling noise sounded again and this time the shack seemed to shake. Rosmerta screamed and ran. All the way to the pub, her shouts of fear could be heard in chorus with the howling from the shack on the hill. As she reached the pub, a man hurried out.
"Rosmerta," he said urgently, hugging her in a comforting way, "What's wrong Rosmerta?"
In between gasps for breath she stammered, "Shrieking…shack…"
